She Has My Heart
by BlackBandit111
Summary: Oneshot. Gwaine notices something off about Merlin one day, and decides to investigate. The only way to gain information though, Gwaine finds, is through a trip to the tavern. Freylin mentions, no slash, no real spoilers unless you don't know who Gwaine is. Arthur makes an appearance in this fic also.


**So I wrote this oneshot a while ago, forgot about it, stumbled upon it just now and thought to myself, 'wow, I should really post this now...' and that is my pointless backstory. No real spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen...well, any parts of Merlin, and warning! sad fic, very hurt/comfort, and perhaps a little OOC.**

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For the people of Camelot, the day was a relatively normal day. The sun had been shining, the flowers swaying gently in the slight, nearly non-existent breeze. Clouds drifted lazily across the deep blue sky, and the scent of the air was spring.

Yet Gwaine could sense something was off- not with the atmosphere or the kingdom in general, but one of his companions, Merlin. He was usually animated, talkative, and grinning, easy to crack a joke with and quick to retort should you start a banter. He would carry out his chores with many groans and incessant sarcasm, but would get them done like no one else.

Today, Merlin was off to say the least. It wasn't so much as he wasn't as talkative, and animated and easy to smile. It was more along the lines of now, the talk wasn't blabbering like usual; it was deep and laced with hidden meaning. The animation wasn't as loud and pointless as usual, instead smaller gestures and with more purpose. The smile was still present, but simply did not reach his eyes.

And then, at practice, Arthur had been a prat- which wasn't an unlikely occurrence- yet it was to a further extent than usual. "Merlin, you idiot," he had stormed after Merlin had done relatively nothing wrong, most likely an honest mistake. Gwaine didn't catch it, savoring the water break while it lasted. "Can't you do anything right?"

Gwaine noticed it, but he doubted anyone else had been paying attention to Merlin's reaction. Merlin's mask had slipped, and his true feelings shone through. The feelings he buried deep down inside for later, when he was alone had suddenly been exposed. What Gwaine saw had shocked him.

Pure and sheer sadness was present. Merlin's face was contorted in that one split second into unbelievable hopelessness, utter _pain_, and Gwaine could've sworn tears shone in Merlin's eyes. The mask was swiftly and expertly repaired almost as soon as it had completely fallen. Gwaine knew what he saw had been real, the emotions raw and aching.

Gwaine wracked his brain throughout the practice even though Merlin was smiling jovially again as if nothing had happened- a quick, sharp insult courtesy of Merlin had put Arthur in his place- yet Gwaine knew. He was determined to find out what all this sadness and complete lack of happiness suddenly was all about.

Then, he couldn't help but wonder if Merlin felt like that _every_day and merely hid it from them. Judging from the way his mask had once again magically seemed to piece itself back together when it had seconds before been absolutely shattered had to have taken some form of practice. _But no, _another voice argued in Gwaine's mind_, Merlin's smile was more sincere, his talk less meaningful and more of a silence filler. His animations larger and louder. It had to have been something about today. But what?_

Gwaine thought about all the times he had seen Merlin that day- doing laundry in the kitchen, scrubbing Arthur's boots, running rounds for Gaius, then at practice now. Out of all those times, Gwaine could think of not one of them that could've gone so wrong that Merlin had that...that _look _about him. Gwaine couldn't understand it.

But Gwaine knew the one way to fix it. Later on, after Merlin was dismissed, Gwaine was dragging Merlin to the tavern, whether it be willingly, or kicking and screaming. He would get Merlin loose at best, let his smiles come easier, and ask Merlin what the matter was- maybe throw in a joke here or there, but still get his point across about how if Merlin needed to talk, Merlin knew where to find Gwaine. Then Merlin would feel better and joke, and laugh, and be his usual self tomorrow.

The day flew by faster than Gwaine had expected it to, and before he knew it it was nearing dusk and the end of Merlin's long shift as Arthur's manservant. Gwaine had kept a close, observant eye on his younger friend all day for signs of anything the matter, and Merlin had quickly caught on, asking if he had done something. After Gwaine had assured not, Merlin had suspiciously watched Gwaine out of the corner of his eyes the rest of the day, as if he knew what the roguish knight was planning.

Gwaine waited patiently outside of Arthur's chambers, leaning slightly against the wall yet staying silent, listening. When he heard the, "Merlin, you are dismissed" and the returned "see you tomorrow", he stood up straighter and cleared his throat. Merlin appeared moments later, turned towards him, and nearly cried out had Gwaine not dashed forward and clamped a hand over his mouth, shushing him.

"Sh!" He glanced around conspiratorially, as if he felt they were watched and saw, to his satisfaction, amusement sneak up on his servant friend.

"Gwaine," Merlin said with a raised eyebrow, his voice a little muffled from the gloved hand, "are we going to the tavern, then?"

"That we are, Merlin," Gwaine said with a smirk, "that we are."

"Gwaine," Merlin said, his amusement dropping from his eyes and shoulders sagging tiredly. "I'm really not in the mood-"

"It doesn't matter, we're going anyway," Gwaine interrupted, grabbing Merlin's arm and beginning to almost literally drag him down the hallway. "In my opinion, you need a good, warm tankard of mead for your troubles-"

"Gwaine!" Merlin exclaimed angrily, wrenching his wrist from Gwaine's grip and cheeks flushing. "I really, really don't want to!" Gwaine was startled and stared at Merlin, shocked. He had never seen his friend like this. Merlin was breathing heavily, his shoulders heaving. His eyes were worn, and almost had a haunted look within them. His face became expressionless, and Gwaine couldn't help but think he looked completely...lifeless.

That was it. Gwaine was finding out who caused all this, and he was finding out now. Then, he was going to give a right pasting to the culprits. "Sorry, mate," Gwaine muttered gruffly before grabbing Merlin about the middle and hoisting him over his shoulder, "didn't ask your opinion."

"Gwaine!" Merlin roared from over his shoulder, and again Gwaine was surprised the sound had come from the usually soft spoken man, "put me down _now!"_

"Can't do that, sorry," he easily replied as he made his way down the steps to the castle and out into the courtyard, being careful not to knock Merlin's head painfully against his armor that covered his legs. Didn't need an Injured Merlin added to an Angry Merlin, now did he?

"Gwaine," Merlin said, sounding like he was on the verge of a mass murder starting with the man carrying him, "if you don't put me down, I swear-" But he didn't finish his statement, cutting himself off; Gwaine got the impression he wanted it to sound as ominous as possible. He marveled once again at just how _skinny _Merlin was. Arthur didn't lie, his manservant _was _lighter than a child.

He slowly made his way through the lower town towards the tavern the Rising Sun and acted as if it was completely normal for a man to be carrying another grown man down the street in public. Pushing the door open with his foot and tightening his grip on the still protesting Merlin, he plopped his friend down on a bench, pinned him there with his broad arms, and promptly waved over a maid for two drinks. She returned with them with a wink and a smirk at Merlin's predicament and approached another, deserted table, pulling out a rag to wipe the top.

"Merlin," Gwaine growled at the struggling young man, "you will drink this!"

"I don't want to!" Came the indignant retort as he again fought to stand.

"Drink it!"

"No!"

"Drink it or I'll tell everyone you're a sorcerer!" Gwaine threatened, obviously entirely not serious, but to his surprise Merlin stiffened as if burned. His eyes were wide and fearful as he turned to look at Gwaine, who had the expression of a facepalm without the hand to his forehead. "Mate," he assured shakily, not liking Merlin's stricken, kicked puppy look, "I was only joking, mate. Relax."

Merlin looked slightly less like he was going to hurl and downed his mead in one go. Gwaine, feeling incredibly and boundlessly guilty, still waved over the maid for another. He felt sick to his stomach as he watched Merlin nervously and shuddering down this tankard too, as if he was trying desperately not to cry . Gwaine waved over another cup and pressed it into Merlin's hands, it taking all of his willpower not to cave and let Merlin just go home. The poor man looked like he was scared to death and trembling as though he was being held at sword point. But Gwaine steeled himself and watched keenly as Merlin again downed this, now slumped slightly. Gwaine retreated to the opposite bench across the table sipping his own drink slowly, confident that now Merlin was relaxed, he wouldn't be going anywhere.

His hunch was proven right when Merlin only moodily shifted into a more comfortable position and stared broodingly down into his swishing mug. Gwaine had never seen Merlin drunk, so he had almost expected Merlin to be happy, maybe even loud and boisterous after drinking too much. It had never occurred to him that Merlin could possibly be the upset, quiet type.

After Merlin's sixth tankard while Gwaine was nursing his second was when Gwaine got any reaction other than silence. "It's her anniversary, you know," Merlin said with a hollow laugh, glancing up at the ceiling then down at his drink. He waited a moment before taking a sip and swallowed slowly, but didn't offer any more information.

"Who's?" Gwaine prompted softly after a couple more minutes of silence. Merlin pursed his lips, a bitter smile sitting lazily on them. It hurt Gwaine to see and hear Merlin like this.

"Hers," Merlin supplied quietly, "Freya's."

"Well. Congratulations to her, mate," Gwaine replied falsely cheerful, hoping this would brighten Merlin's mood. Instead, Merlin's face grew darker.

"Her death anniversary," he amended, and Gwaine felt his heart sink.

"Who was she?" He said after again, a few minutes of silence.

"She was mine," he said simply, shrugging. "She was beautiful and perfect and amazing. And now she's gone." It had had never crossed Gwaine's mind that Merlin may have loved a girl. Merlin had never spoken to him of anyone, and had never even hinted he was in a relationship. _But_, the voice in the back of his consciousness said again, _maybe this is why._

She was mine, Merlin's voice echoed back to him, she was beautiful and perfect and amazing. And now she's gone.

_God, she must've been one hell of a woman,_ Gwaine thought, staring at his friend who now was tracing lines in the woodwork of the table. _To make him talk about her like that- so wistfully. And she must've been one lucky one,_ Gwaine added. _Merlin's so kind and caring and empathetic. He's so good natured about everything. They must've been very happy._ Must've. That stung.

"You know," Merlin continued, rousing Gwaine from his thoughts as he tuned in to pay attention, "we were gonna run away together." He looked at Gwaine, who felt shock flooding his system, and Merlin smiled ruefully. "Yeah. Mountains, a few fields, a couple of cows, wildflowers, and a lake." He sighed.

"Sounds perfect," Gwaine commented, still watching his friend who sighed heavily again.

"That's what I said. She was so...lost. I found her, I helped her. I was going to quit my job, abandon my duties, throw away my destiny to be with her. Fate had other plans," he said, scowling towards the end.

"Sounds like you were her hero," he remarked.

And, to his utter mortification and surprise, Merlin began to cry, tears streaming down his cheeks and making little dark stains into the wood of the table. "But I couldn't save her," he choked, burying his face in his arms. "it's- all, all m-my f-fault!"

Gwaine was at a loss and had absolutely no idea what to do. "It's not your fault," he tried, but Merlin just sniffled. Gwaine heard the door open and glanced towards it, and his eyes bulged out of his head as he silently cursed any god listening. Why was Arthur in the tavern _today_, of all days?

The King's head turned around before he spotted them and his face turned a dangerous shade of red, furious. Gwaine tried to give him a look to go easy as Arthur stormed in their direction; apparently because Merlin's head was in his arms, Arthur thought he was too drunk to keep his head up.

"Merlin, you idiot, why the hell didn't you tell anyone you were going to be-" Arthur stopped mid rant as Merlin turned his tear-stained face up. Arthur's face went from angry to worried in seconds as he kneeled down on the bench. Merlin sniffed pathetically before putting his head in his arms again.

"I don't feel good, Arthur," he muttered. "It hurts."

Arthur, just like Gwaine, had no idea what to do. He opened and shut his mouth many times, trying to find the right words, but couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. It had clearly shaken the King to see Merlin like this. "What hurts, Merlin?" He said, in a vain hope he could attempt to fix it.

Arthur still appeared to not comprehend. Gwaine knew from the look on the King's face he wanted desperately to know what it was so he could a) kill the person responsible and b) mend the entire situation and watch closely so Merlin never went through it again.

In reply to Arthur's earlier question, Merlin only shook his head. "You wouldn't understand," he murmured, going to take another drink from his mug. Arthur gently but firmly tugged it out of Merlin's grip, setting it just out of reach of his manservant.

"Just tell me so maybe I have the chance." Arthur replied softly, his sincere crystal eyes looking into Merlin's face.

"She's-" he choked again, "she's gone. She's dead!"

"Who, Merlin?" Arthur said, still in the same soothing tone, and it amazed Gwaine the different man Arthur had become as soon as he had seen his friend's tears, "who was she?"

"She- Freya, and I-I-" poor Merlin was hiccuping along with his tears now, unable to stop himself from trembling. It seemed to Gwaine that all the pent up sadness just didn't know where to go anymore, and was taking it out on Merlin's slim frame.

"Freya? Who's that?" Arthur asked.

"I loved her-" he couldn't speak any longer, leaned forward, buried his face in Arthur's shoulder, and sobbed aloud. "I can't," Gwaine heard, muffled, "I can't, I can't."

Arthur, startled for a moment at his friend's open request for comfort, gazed down at the raven head just below his chin and sighed. Arthur rubbed Merlin's shoulder, muttering to him quietly, "It's alright, Merlin. It's alright." Gwaine again marveled at Arthur's display of tenderness.

"I- just d-d-don't kn-know-"

"It's okay, Merlin. It'll all be okay. Just trust me." Arthur said, babbling nonsense to try and assure Merlin that he would feel himself again against all this despair.

Merlin swallowed audibly. "I trust you, Arthur," he said thickly, leaning back and looking up at the King like a lost child. "I trust y-you."

The King sighed again, louder this time, and pulled Merlin back into a hug for a moment before letting go and nodding. "I know you do, Merlin," he sighed once more, "I know you do."

Gwaine watched all this without comment, still unsure of how to react. When Merlin turned to look at him, Gwaine's eyebrows shot up when he noticed Merlin had a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"This d-did make me feel b-better. Thanks, Gwaine."

Gwaine honestly was kicking himself, hard, for even bringing up the topic and causing his friend such grief. Gwaine really didn't deserve any thanks at all. If anything, he believed he deserved Merlin to be screaming at him, hitting him even, and then promptly losing Merlin's friendship.

_Thanks, Gwaine._ God, he felt like such a jerk.

"I...don't mention it," Gwaine said weakly, gulping down the clog in his throat to speak. "Really."

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur said, taking his friend's arm and looping it over his shoulders to better support him, "lets get you home."

"Alright," Merlin replied tiredly.

"Gwaine," Arthur addressed him, "grab his other-" but Gwaine was already there the minute Arthur had said his name in which the King gave a nod of thanks. Together, they both supported the exhausted Merlin to Gaius's chambers, lay him in his bed, then explained to Gaius what had occurred. Gaius thanked both of them gratefully for both being there for him and bringing him back, before going on to explain. This happened to Merlin every year today. Gaius confided that he thought Merlin may never love anyone again. In Merlin's eyes, to date was to commit betrayal on Freya's part.

Gwaine and Arthur only shook their heads, astounded, and left to their individual chambers. There was no more talk. There didn't need to be.

Gwaine, upon going into the tavern a couple days later found he couldn't sit at the table he had always occupied. The maid had noticed and wondered why, thinking it was because of the trauma his friend had gone through; though really, even if she couldn't see it, he did.

The wooden table had been stained with Merlin's tears.

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**Sorry if this jerked tears...**

**But please, feedback is appreciated and acknowledged, and I hope you enjoyed the read!**


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